


Frankie

by CentauriRose (Miss_Lucy_Jackson)



Series: Centauri's Angel Fiction [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Angels, Demons, Fairies, Gangs, Ghettos, Halflings, M/M, Mpreg, Poverty, Prostitution, Religion, Runaway, Vampires, Werewolves, fae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8394685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lucy_Jackson/pseuds/CentauriRose
Summary: Frankie is a fourteen year old angel. Living in the area he lives with his step dad and mother, he is forced into prostitution to feed his family. After an investigation into his step father for fledgling porn, Frankie is removed from his home. He escapes the authorities after someone finds his prostitution brand. He now must survive in a hostile city all alone.





	1. Chapter 1

Lord above, I was in another mess. Oh, how rude of me, I'm Frankie, sweetie. My mother, bless her cold heart, taught me manners before she came across him. He just so happened to be yelling at me for coming home late. He was worried the cops would come and see his stash of fledgling porn, not that yet again I had been jumped by Robin’s gang. 

He was a porn addict and an unemployed punk. My Mama called him Jesus and her savior after my Papa died. She couldn't tell Jesus from Lucifer. The Baptist woman went off her rocker the moment Papa died. 

Leaving her fourteen year old to fend for himself. I mean, I'm far from defenseless. I'm a skinny boy with red hair and blue eyes. I can throw a decent punch, and my heels are nine inches. I could run in heels better than some of the girls at the corner. And even then I was still a target. 

“You worthless piece of shit! Next time you come home late, I'm gonna bust your face up good!” he screams. 

I nod and walk to my room. I am tired and sore. I take a shower and let the warm waterfall cover my skin. I had always showered at night. 

Mama walks in with her cross necklace and starts basically saying what he just said. I want to slap the heaven out of her and wake her up. Yell at her and tell her that this wasn't what Papa wanted. 

That's when the Military Guard knocks on the door. Mama goes and opens the door. They come in like they're all entitled and stuff. Mama keeps saying nothing's wrong, and he is trying to hide his fledgling porn in the closet. She offers them tea and cookies. They take it. 

“So, you got a boy?” the one I've seen on television questions of my parents. 

“Oh yes, he's trouble,” he says it like it’s poker night with his boys. 

The TV angel smiles and asks to see me. I get out of the shower. He gasps once he sees me. He runs over and inspects my wounds. I sigh softly. 

“Don't bother,” Mama states, “he will be right fine in a few days.”

“Sir, aren't you the archangel?” I whisper the question. 

“There's seven archangels, sweetie. And I'm Michael, the sexy one,” the archangel laughs. 

“Mika, can we search the property?” his partner murmurs into Michael’s ear.

The archangel huffs, “Sky, go ahead.”

The partner is very handsome. I could sleep with him. I would, too. He has such gorgeous cornflower blue eyes. I would lay back and let him Dom me. 

The partner, who was named Skyllar, finds the porn stash in the closet. Realizing that he was screwed, my Mama’s boyfriend blames it on me. I deny it. They check the receipts. It’s his signatures on every dotted line. He gets arrested and so does Mama. 

They take me to the station and interview me. I tell them about Mama acting weird and her boyfriend being abusive. I hate opening old wounds. I tell them about Robin’s gang and how those guys have been hurting me.

These guys put in a request for me to be viewed by a psychiatrist and a doctor. Michael feeds me. He doesn't know. He sits in the room while his fellow archangel, Raphael, starts stripping me down and looking me over. 

Gentle old Raph, poor fella, touches my left shoulder blade. I outright scream, not for the pain, but for the discovery of my prostitution brand. I was another one of the boys who worked the corner as a means to feed my family. I bolt from the police station as soon as I am left alone. 

I grab some things from my room and the cash I was saving for a movie I wanted to go to. 

I run.

XXX

I find a small abandoned house to hide in for the night. Michael would look for me. I know he will. 

The house is dank, and I smell mold. I feel like throwing up. Being a male prostitute, the constant work is terrible on your body. I consider going to a clinic to get checked for any diseases.

Or parasitic infections of the prenatal kind, my traitor of a brain adds.

Now, let me give you the grace of a crash course in magical being sex ed. You have your male Semes, nothing really special though. Then your male Ukes, this is the kicker, kids, can become pregnant. There was a small shortage of females way back when, and angels and demons and fae and every magical being in between was graced with male pregnancy. It’s a yaoi fan’s dream come true. 

There is a tube in the rectum leading to the uterus, where eggs are hiding. We don't have periods, but heats drive Nephaelim bonkers. Imagine, for example, a knife in your gut that is accompanied by sweating, mood changes, and a permanent erection. 

Thankfully, with angels and demons, when our wings come in, we are the fertile if we are Ukes. During the heats the Nephaelim have, they are willing to get on their knees for any relief. Those heats usually start about two to four years after their wings come in. 

They can be stopped, or at least masked, by suppressants. And if an Uke angel or demon happens to be by an Uke Nephaelim, they better be ready for a fight, since the Semes can sense Ukes even though they aren't currently or can't be in heat. And they'll mate with any breathing Uke in the vicinity.

It's not our faults. We can't help it. I'm just glad I'm safe. 

I walk to the clinic under the cover of five o'clock rush hour. I slip into the Uke’s health clinic on Avery Boulevard. I'm in uptown Jericho City. This is where drug deals and gun violence go down nightly. 

And for a pasty white boy in high heels in this part of town? Well, um, that'd be a death sentence. I show off my brand. No one screws with Robin. This is his town. If you don't pay his girls and boys, you get got 

Just relax. You'll be fine, I tell myself over and over like a broken record. 

The clinic is empty. I walk over to a nurse who signs me in. She takes a blood sample and runs the initial basic tests. Pregnancy, heart functions, damage, STDs, etc. Just a few minutes, yeah.


	2. Chapter 2

I am pregnant. 

It's a little girl. 

I'm going to have her soon. I'm farther along than I would've thought. I didn't have morning sickness. I didn't have mood changes. 

Nothing. 

I'm elated. I love kids, and now I'm having one of my own. She will be the most beautiful baby ever. 

Then the idea of a job sets in. I'm going to need a place to stay and a good job. And school! 

Novak Institute would take me. I'm smarter than I seem. For granted I talk like a southern boy, but I'm still smart. 

I fill out the application and get interviewed. The principal accepts me for final interviews immediately, something about needing to widen the gene pool. I recognize the principal as a sub-archangel named Ezekiel. He manages the education spectrum of the Second Council.

Another lesson, kiddies. The Archangel Council is the big seven- Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Remiel, Raguel, and Saraqael. Then there's the lovely Second Council. They are like the junior varsity to the varsity of the Archangel Council. They deal with little stuff, mostly education, welfare, and even gay rights. 

How funny that the archangels, except for Saraqael and Uriel, have the capacity to carry their own babies, but they have to fight tooth and nail to get homosexuals rights. Heck, even Michael was afraid of his brother, his lover, getting pregnant. 

Then there's little ol’ Lucifer. Michael’s twin brother slept with Gabriel, and then there was an immense amount of drama. Yeah. That's how Cesario got here. 

Ezekiel smiles at me, eyeballing my body like I was a steak at a meat market.Yes, Ukes are just as objectified as female angels. So are Semes. I've seen commercials with the archangels half naked and dancing around for women and Ukes. It's hilarious. 

“Sir, eyes up here,” I state all sassy.

“I'm sorry, Frankie,” he looked at my application, “you're recently moved out of your parents house. Would you like to move into a dorm here at Novak Institute?”

“No, cause I'm not that kind of guy,” I sit down and cross my left leg over my right, “I'll find my own way.” 

“Well, that seems appropriate,” he continues looking through my application, “I think that you would be a great candidate for Novak Institute. Of course, you'd need a full medical check.” 

“I've got that too,” I hand him the small paper with my medical check on it.

“You're pregnant?” Ezekiel’s grassy green eyes widen in surprise. 

“Yes, sir, I am. And I'm fully capable of tending to my child as well as working and furthering my education,” I nod sternly. 

“With this new information, we can't accept you, but we can refer you to our magnet programs. Jericho City High is our partner in education, and I'd like to ask you to enroll there,” Ezekiel’s voice is sad as he tells me this, “I'm sorry, Frankie.”

“I'll be on my way then,” I grab my satchel and walk out. 

I walk down to Enid Street and Fourth Avenue. It's a fancy part of town. The upper echelon part of town. High class hookers came here all the time for big bucks. I might just have to. 

“Frankie,” a voice calls from an alleyway. 

I turn, and the worst possible person ever is standing in the shadows. Robin approaches me, his baseball bat in his hands. No doubt he is model-quality handsome, but he is my pimp, and I've got to be careful.

“Robin, baby, how are you?” I ask sweetly, batting my eyelashes. 

He smiles softly, hiding a blush, “I'm doing okay. I heard about what happened. I've got a place for you to stay. It's small, but you'll be okay.”

“What?” I am taken aback by his kindness. 

“Well, you're my favorite, and I heard how bad things got, and now I'm gonna take care of you. You ain't gotta work, baby. Daddy's got you,” he throws his arms around my shoulders, “I'll show you it.” 

He walks me to the clinic, passes it, and we keep going. I smile softly. At least he was being nice. He then takes me through an apartment building. 

On the second floor, he opens the door to a small storage closet. There's a bathroom with a small, decrepit shower, a small countertop with a microwave, hot plate, and sink, and a small mini-fridge. In the corner, an exhausted bed sagged against the wall. I set my satchel down and look at the walls, finding a few cracks some plaster can fix. The carpet is stiff with Jehovah knows what. 

“It's the best I could get. Do you still want it?” Robin asks quietly. 

“Yes, please, Robin. What do I have to do?” I look at him, pleading with my eyes.

He sighs, “see, you're so good for me, and you never miss a payment. I'm helping you out for that. Stay here all the time you need. No more pimping you out. No more forcing you to give me money. You deserve a break.” 

“Thank you, Robin,” I smile and kiss his beautiful lips. 

He stiffens, and then he molds against me, holding my body still by my arms. He kisses my lips like a man starved for water. He pulls away and lets out a tired sigh. 

“That was…” I suck in a much needed breath, “fantastic.” 

“Yeah. There's food in the fridge,” he turns and leaves. 

I exhale tiredly and curl up on my bed, finding it soft despite its appearance. I can hear people in the building making love and war. A baby cries off in the distance. I turn off the light and relax. Sleep drags me under like a needy john.


	3. Chapter 3

I wake the next morning to my apartment. I stretch and notice a wad of cash on the floor. Was that? No! No freaking way! I pick up the cash and count it. Twelve thousand dollars just for me. Robin must've left it last night. 

 

I leave the apartment, wanting to treat myself. I wear yesterday’s outfit of short shorts and a scoop neck tank top. My heels hit the ground in a rhythmic beat. 

 

I find my favorite restaurant open and packed with people. I slip inside and get a window table. I smile at the idea of such a delicious meal. Papa brought me here before he died, and he always ordered me a huge, greasy burger, medium rare with a bowl of French fries and gravy. 

 

A waitress comes around. I order exactly that and have her bring me a morning paper. She hands me my soda and my paper. I read it while I wait. Out the corner of my eye, I see Michael and Skyllar roll up in their police cruiser. Skyllar slams the door and starts stomping away. Michael grabs his shoulder and says something. I can't read lips but it was calming to Skyllar, who relaxes and walks inside with Michael. They are dressed casually, and both look like really attractive johns. 

 

Damn it, Frankie. You're not a whore anymore. 

 

The waitress brings me my food, and I chow down. Skyllar and Michael get seated a couple tables away. They order coffee and pancakes. Skyllar looks up from his meal and sees me. I advert my eyes. 

 

I glance back up, and both of them are staring. I swallow nervously. I keep eating as if nothing's up. Skyllar comes over and sits at my table. 

 

I smile up at him, “hello, sir.” 

 

“Got your own way, huh, kiddo?” he laughed. 

 

“Um, I don't understand,” I look at him, confused.

 

“Either that or you're just big boned,” Skyllar motions to my jeans, right to the wad of cash.

 

“Courtesy of my former pimp,” I blurt out.

 

He freezes. His eyes read my face. By my wings, he's got the sexiest blue eyes ever on a creature. My hands feel weak, and I set my burger down. 

 

“I'm sorry for…” he looks away, sniffing, “I better go. Michael’s a jealous one.” 

 

He gets up and goes back to his table. I finish eating and leave the money on the table. I leave the restaurant. 

 

I spot a boutique across the road with handsome men in the windows, live modeling. I cross the street and go inside. There are really fancy clothes all around the store. I grab some jeans and try them on, deciding I like them, and buy them. I also grab a few v-neck shirts. I pick out some underwear as well. 

 

I feel a sharp kick in my gut, “ow!” 

 

People look over at me. I bite my lip and leave quickly with my clothes. I find my apartment as soon as I can and get inside. I take a shower.

 

My snowy white wings absolutely reek. I wash them with a bar of soap left in the shower. For my sake, I also clean away the dead feathers. I continue washing up. I dry off and choose my outfit. I don't care if they're unwashed, they're clothes that need to be on me. The underwear is soft, and it feels like silk on my skin. The shirts smell like ash roses, as do the jeans. I smile and glance at myself in the mirror. I seem to glow. 

 

“Frankie, I'm here,” Robin calls softly outside my door. 

 

I open the door for him. He comes inside, trying not to stare at my body. He's got some bags from Walmart in his hands. He sets them on the ground. 

 

“What's this, sweetie?” I question,

 

“I bought you some furnishings, mostly tables and stuff. There's some sheets too. And toiletries. And some more food. And a pantry. And dishes. And a trash can,” he unpacks the bags.

 

“Whoa, Robin, baby, you didn't have to,” I put my hand over my heart, “bless you, sweet child.”

 

“Actually, yeah, I did. I messed up big time. You're a cute little kid who didn't need that. I should've treated you better,” he stands up straight, and he's close to six nine. 

 

“Thank you, Robin. So much. I appreciate it like nothing else anyone’s ever done for me,” I hug him tightly.

 

“Frankie,” he whispers in my ear, “I love you.”

 

I step back and gaze up at him, a soft look on my face. He is indeed a very cute guy, and in different circumstances, I’d get with him. But he had scarred me, forced me to do things I didn’t want to. I bit back a scream of frustration. The baby kicked again. 

 

“Robin, there’s no easy way to say this, but I don’t see us together,” I say as slowly as I can. 

 

The hurt look on his face kills me. He steps back away from me. The horrified look in his eyes signal to me that he wants to flee. I break eye contact immediately following me noticing that look. He shakes his head and turns away from me, stepping out of the tiny storage closet. 

 

“I’m pregnant,” I shout after him.

 

“What?!” he whips around, and he crosses the room in a few quick strides to look at me, “you’re pregnant, Frankie?”

 

“It’s a girl. I’m about seven months along. Never showed, never kicked until now,” I feel sick all of a sudden. 

 

“Jesus, Frankie, you should’ve told me. If I’d known, I would’ve taken you to the clinic and gotten it taken care of,” he put his hands to the sides of his head, “now it’s too late.”

 

“You would’ve wanted me to abort it?” I put my arms around my middle, “seriously, Robin. I could never do that! It’s my child.”

 

“And you’re just fourteen. That’s like ruining your life. A baby now would cause you to have every chance you once had slip through your fingers. You’re better than this, Frankie,” Robin slams his fist into the countertop, “you’ll put it up for adoption.” 

 

“And what if it’s yours from when you broke me in?” I hiss, “getting rid of your baby would cause so much trouble with your boys. They’d see your family as disposable, and if your blood is disposable, what makes them think you’d hesitate to get rid of them?” 

 

“Fine, you can keep it. The parasite better not keep you from going to school,” he storms out.


	4. Chapter 4

I lay in bed that night, curled up in a soft pink nightgown. The baby kicks and punches like she’s fighting. I can’t sleep. I yawn and stretch out again, my wings aching. I sigh quietly. My daughter stops moving. I figure she’s settling down for the night. I allow myself to nod off.

XXX

I scream myself awake. A skull crushing pain rips through my body. I sit up slowly, grasping my middle. Robin pounds on the door. I lift my head up. I stumble to the door, feeling a thick wetness run down my thighs. I open the door for Robin. 

“Frankie, what’s wrong?” he puts his hands on my shoulders. 

“I think… I’m in labor,” I look up at him, “Robin, I’m…”

“I’ll call an ambulance,” he pulls out his phone and dials emergency services. 

Not much longer and I can’t stand anymore. I give up and let myself fall into a numb mindset. I can’t focus on anything. I wake up from this stupor and find myself in a hospital room. I sit up quickly, and a howl of pain explodes from my lips. 

“Frankie, relax, sweetie,” Robin’s soft voice relaxes me. 

“What happened?” I murmur.

“She decided to make an appearance, baby. She decided to come early,” Robin rubs my shoulders. 

“The baby?” I ask.

“I named her Ella Maze,” he smiles, “she’s in the NICU.”

“Is she okay?” I glance at him. 

“Doc’s less than optimistic. She's got a heart deformity. I'm sure I can convince them to let you see her,” he stands and alerts the nurse that I'm awake.

They bring in a little bassinet. I strain to see. Inside the bassinet is a small little baby with tubes helping her breath and IVs in her feet. She shifts and looks up at me. Her eyes are a soft brown shade, matching her skin. Her hair is curly and black as ravens. 

“She's gorgeous, Robin,” I whisper, “she's perfect.”

He smiles warmly, like he's proud of her. He picks her up and carefully hands her to me. I cradle her close to my chest. She presses her little self against me. 

“Hold on, Frankie,” Robin takes out an old camera and snaps a picture of me and Ella, “she's gorgeous, baby. She's a beautiful little baby, and she's gonna make the world so much better.”

“She looks like one of my johns,” I say quietly, “Richard, I think?”

“She will never know,” Robin sits down on the bed, staring at little Ella. 

She starts crying, and I try my best to comfort her. She keeps crying. I feed her a bottle of formula. That doesn't help her. Robin gets a nurse. The nurse takes Ella from me and tries to figure out what's wrong. I start to worry. 

“She's dying, Frankie,” Robin whispers. 

I feel sick, and I witness my world crumbling. Ella stops breathing suddenly, and the nurse calls in some help to try to revive her. I know in the bottom of my heart there's nothing the doctors and nurses can do to help her. 

I start crying silently. Eventually the doctors give up, and I feel even worse. She would've died either way, had she been born early or not. Her heart defect was too severe. 

Robin cradles me that night, snoozing next to me. His head sits on my chest, one hand on my stomach. I can't sleep at all that first night.

Skyllar comes by the next day, just to check up on me. He's wearing a sleek black suit when he walks in. Robin gets possessive, and it's kinda funny to someone who didn't just lose their kid. 

“Frankie, it's time to discuss your options regarding what to do with her. You could, and I'd prefer you do so, bury her. You could also get her cremated and bury the ashes,” the blonde says to me gently. 

“I want her cremated, all but a few ashes buried in the park nearby my childhood home,” I state numbly. 

Reality sets in the next week, and I don't leave my bed in the hospital. The doctors show concern. I don't bother to care about what diagnosis they give me. I'd failed my child. My screwed up gene's what got her killed. 

About two weeks later, the doctors release me. I attend my daughter’s funeral. Robin is at my side, as well as Skyllar. It rains as they lower her ashes into the ground. I cradle the vial of ashes to my heart. The tears threaten to reappear, but I refuse to let them flow. 

XXX

Robin makes sure I eat, shower, and take care of myself. I spend the next few months in bed, too emotionally drained to do anything. Skyllar tends to me sometimes, other times it's Robin or one of his gang. 

Something gets me out of bed one December morning. I feel the urge to go outside. I put on a jacket and some boots. I walk outside. It's snowing. The flakes fall in lazy little flutters. Kids play on the sidewalk in the snow. 

“Hey, Frankie, what are you doing out here?” Robin comes up beside me. 

“Oh, I wanted to see the snow,” I smile.

“Why'd you keep that little vial of ashes?” he asks softly.

I look at my necklace, the pendant the vial of ashes, “I've heard of people putting ashes in tattoo ink. I wanted one.” 

“I'll pay for it, baby,” he smiles at me.


	5. Chapter 5

Within the next hour, I've got a pair of baby footprints on my wrist. Robin gets one as well. I contemplate the idea of him and I together. It still doesn't compute. I know he loves me, and he's being nice. And I'm honestly starting to care. He's being nice to atone for his crimes. 

 

I glance down at my tattoo for the upteenth time today. It's beautiful. The ink feels natural on my skin.

 

“Hey, you hungry kid?” Robin bumps me with his hip as we walk down the street.

 

“Yeah, I could eat,” I smile.

 

“There's that smile,” he kisses my cheek, “let's hit up a wing place.”

 

I feel my own wings twitch, “not angel wings, I hope.” 

 

Robin starts laughing, “what am I? Jeffrey Dahmer? Like chicken wings, kiddo.”

 

“Oh, Mama never let us have that,” I say softly.

 

“That’s a horrible existence, dear. Come on, I’ll get you something to eat. You need it big time. It’s just a bit more down the street, managed by my brother,” he pointed to a glass door to a restaurant. 

 

“Okay, Robin,” I let him walk me to the restaurant. 

 

I smell the air, smiling. Robin gets us some honey mustard wings. I go down like a two dollar hooker on those damn things. I gulp it down and smile. 

 

“Babe, you want me to get that stuff off your face?” Robin offers. 

 

I let him take me to the men’s room. There are a couple of male angels, and honestly, I'm not afraid to be innocent for once. Robin cleans my face off with a rag. He kisses my forehead, and out of just desperation, I kiss him on the mouth. 

 

He smiles and opens one of the stalls. I’ve had many rendezvous in a bathroom stall. I step inside, pull down my jeans, and let him go mount me. Robin locks the stall and lines his cock up with my hole. He shoves himself inside. I cry out softly. 

 

Robin sets a rough pace, him knowing I enjoy stuff like that. He hits my sweet spot over and over. I keen softly underneath him, and he is extremely quiet. The white hot ball of heat in my stomach grows and grows with each pass over my sweet spot. Robin clearly cares about me, none of my johns would ever do something so much as touch me in a caring manner.

 

“Oh, God, Frankie,” Robin whispers softly in my ear, “gonna turn you into a cum dump.”

 

“Yes, please, Robin, give me another little one!” I shout loudly. 

 

“You're my first priority,” he smiles. 

 

A few seconds later, and I ruin the floor with white mess. Robin reaches his peak not long after, and I can feel the mess inside me. Oh, God, it feels amazing. 

 

He pulls out, and the loss makes me feel empty. I turn around and look up at him as he cleans me up. His hands are tender and quite skilled. I feel very safe.

 

“Open your mouth,” Robin offers me a white pill, which I take, knowing it's an after pill.

 

“Robin, I want to go home,” I whisper softly. 

 

“Alright dear,” he takes me home.

 

He offers me a chocolate wrapped in foil. I open it, knowing it's one with a message in it. Inside it reads “you're delicious”. I roll my eyes and pop the chocolate in my mouth. He and I change and take a quick shower together. Robin reads me a story from his favorite fiction app. I fall asleep to his voice.


End file.
